


Ropes and Torture

by Master_of_the_Rebels



Series: The Red Hood and Hoodlum Verse [4]
Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: M/M, silliness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 09:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/429250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Master_of_the_Rebels/pseuds/Master_of_the_Rebels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: The first meeting of Dick and Jason after "Fishnets and Vengeance" with a little JayTim on the side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ropes and Torture

Dick took him by surprise, which in ordinary circumstances, shouldn’t have happened, because the older man generally announced his presence.  But there had been no forewarning this time, and Jason ended up with a firsthand account of exactly why Dick Grayson was and always would be _the_ Boy Wonder.  The fist met his jaw before he even realized Dick was there, and he was halfway through a curse when his vision blacked out and he lost consciousness. 

 

Dick stood over Jason’s slumped body with a dark scowl, cracking the knuckles on his hand.  “Nightwing.” Damian dropped silently beside him from the roof and stared at the passed out body.  “You didn't bother to hold back.”

 

“Of course not,” Dick scoffed, bending down to sling Jason’s limp form over his shoulder.  “The jerk doesn’t deserve any restraint on my part after what he did to Tim.” He shot a cable up to the rooftop and ascended, easily handling the extra weight, Damian a following shadow.

 

“Aren’t you mistaken, Nightwing?" Damian hung upside-down from a flagpole protruding above the drop off of a building where Dick had landed and was wrapping a zip-tie around Jason's wrists.  "Drake chose to leave of his own accord."

 

"That's different.  I'm talking about the picture, that—" Dick bit his tongue to stop himself from finishing the sentence.  "Anyway, I'm taking Red Hood back to the cave for interrogation."

 

"I believe Batman would say that this falls under the realm of allowing your feelings to dictate your actions.  I am against this."

 

"You're the one who first said you wanted to kill them both."

 

"Yes, but this was said in a rage.  I have my wits back about me and I am submitting my formal declination of these actions."

 

"Your position is noted.  But I'm still taking him back.  So deal with it."

 

"I think—"

 

"If you stop thinking, I'll let you do some interrogation without any censoring from me."

 

"...Carry on."

 

 ~~~

 

  _Three Days Later..._

 

The impressive doorbell of Wayne Manor clamored in the muggy air of the early evening, reverberating into Tim were he stood on the front steps and calling up past memories of being on the other side of that door.  He would admit to missing it, sometimes, but he wouldn't trade his current life to go back to those days.

 

A quiet click, and the door swung open to reveal Alfred's pleasantly surprised countenance.  "Master Timothy, what a delight.  To what do we owe the visit?" Alfred stepped aside, ushering Tim inside.

 

Smiling thankfully, Tim replied, “I’m not going to be staying for too long, Alfred.  I’m just here to pick up something that Dick borrowed from me.”

 

"Ah." The single sound made it clear that Tim's suspicions were correct, and he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

 

"So he _is_ here.  Why am I not surprised?  I told him that card was a bad idea." Tim toed off his shoes in the entrance and followed the amused butler down the hall.  "How did Damian catch him?"

 

"Actually," Alfred said with a conspiratorial smile, "it was Master Richard that made off with the prize this time around."

 

"Dick did it?" Tim frowned.  "Well, that's unfortunate.  Now I owe Jason twenty bucks." Tim stopped outside a familiar door—the study—and asked, "I hope the pair hasn't been torturing him too badly?"

 

"At this point, I believe simply trying to find ticklish spots.  Master Richard seemed to deem it a punishment worthy of the crime, now that Master Damian has had his fill." Tim snorted as Alfred knocked on the door.

 

"Of course. Only Dick.  Damian would've hated that.  I dread to think what torment that little brat came up with." Alfred nodded in agreement. 

 

"I was thankfully out on business with Master Bruce at the time.  I was informed there was screaming." The door cracked open.  "Ah, Master Richard.  Our guest's ride has arrived."

 

From within the room came a loud cursing and a shouted, "Alfie, how does tying me up and torturing me for three days make me a guest!?  Huh?  Answer me!"

 

"Hmm, yes, well." Alfred excused himself without another word and the door swung wide to reveal Dick, who immediately dragged Tim into a gigantic bear hug.

 

"Tim!  How are you?  Are you okay?  That jerk was treating you horribly but I'm going to make it all better.  You can move back in right away."

 

Extricating himself with much difficulty from the hold, Tim cocked a brow wryly.  "Sorry, Dick.  Much as I appreciate the offer, I'm just here to take Jason home." A responding grunt drew his attention to Jason scowling, more or less hog-tied to a plain wooden chair.

 

"How did you know he was here?" Dick pouted, allowing Tim to move over to Jason and examine the knots.

 

"I put a tracker in him," Tim said, without thinking, testing the strength of one of the ties.

 

"You _what_!?" Jason erupted, the chair scooting forward a foot as he jerked angrily in his seat.  Tim stepped back to avoid having a leg land on his toes.

 

"Really?" Dick looked impressed.  "Wow, how Batman of you, Timmy.  I knew you hadn't flown too far from the nest."

 

"You put a tracker _in_ me?" Jason demanded, twisting his head around to glare at Tim, who had kneeled and started to unravel the bindings.  "How the hell, _when_ the hell did you do that!?"

 

Tim drew a rope end through a loop, dipping is fingers into the space it created.  "When you passed out after I had to dig those bullets out of you a few months back when I couldn't find you for a week." He murmured quietly, almost an afterthought, "I didn't want to lose you again like that, so I took precautions."

 

"You took— _by chipping me like a pet dog!?_ "

 

Tim paused.  "Well, if it makes you feel better, it's only accurate up to a mile of your actual location.  And I only use it in case of emergencies.  It's not like I'm GPS tracking your whereabouts 24/7."

 

"Yes.  Yes, that makes me feel so much better." Jason growled at the stupid grin on Dick's face.  The ass always enjoyed hearing them argue now that he was under the asinine impression that Jason had lured Tim away from them.

 

"Jay—"

 

Tim tried, but Jason interrupted with a spat out, "Twat." Tim stopped entirely, leaning back with an offended expression that was the precursor to Jason's sudden regret.

 

Tim stood up abruptly, and turned to Dick.  "You know what?  On second thought, keep him, Dick.  He's especially ticklish on his left hip. Abuse it until he can't breathe for me." Dick's smirk was positively wicked.




 

"Will do, Timmers."

 

"What!  Tim, no!  Get back here and untie these damn ropes!  Tim!"


End file.
